


Nicky Learns to Espresso Himself

by static_abyss



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: Nicky would like to go over to where Joe's nursing his chai latte and get rid of Booker. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Nicky's getting a vibe from Joe, which means the odds of Booker being Joe's boyfriend have started going down. It's not like Nicky thinks there's anything wrong with Booker, per se, but just as a personal opinion, he thinks he and Joe would make a better couple.  Or at least, they'd look much more aesthetically pleasing.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 32
Kudos: 236
Collections: Secret Santa Fics





	Nicky Learns to Espresso Himself

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, Happy Holidays to Toni! You have absolutely no idea what the prompt, coffee shop AU, did to my long-dormant coffee shop AU writing alter ego. I pretended like I was going to write something else for like a day or two, and then I gave in. I had a lot of fun writing this for you, and I hope that you get some enjoyment from it, too. 
> 
> Second, I'd like to thank Lein from the bottom of my heart for all the help in making this a better, more complete piece. Thanks so much for all your help and all the notes. I hope you can forgive the way I either overuse commas or throw them away altogether. 
> 
> And lastly, thanks to the server mods who hosted the exchange and gently reminded everyone to get their works in on time. I had a blast just reading all the discussions in the discord. 
> 
> P.S. I'd say to excuse the title of this fic, but really, what else was I supposed to name an AU fic where Nicky runs a coffee shop. Also, I had this as my working title for over a month and grew too fond of it to change.

The thing about Mondays, nearing the end of November, is that all the people who walk into The Old Guard Cafe can never decide whether they want pumpkin spice or peppermint mocha lattes. Despite the delightfully decorated menus behind Nicky, with their cascading snowflakes outlining the day's specials, he always has at least one customer holding up the morning traffic. Not that Nicky minds being given a second's relief from working the espresso machine. But standing in front of the white tablet, watching the line get longer behind Red Coat's back, doesn't bode well for the rest of the day. 

"I can read you the specials," he says, looking Red Coat right in the eyes.

He's been told that he has crazy eyes, the ring of hazel contrasting with his pupil so that it always looks like he's opening his eyes wider than he is. Quynh, his most treasured friend, says they're her favorite part of his face. Andy, Quynh's girlfriend and Nicky's business partner, says they make him look a little like a serial killer, and since Nicky's seen how much Andy can bench press, he's not inclined to disagree with her.

In any case, the eyes don't work and Red Coat ignores Nicky in favor of looking over the chalkboard menus hanging behind him. Nicky's going to try to move things along using his most detached, polite, customer service voice, the one that Andy swears sounds like he's close to murder. But before he can say anything, someone from the back of the line, says, very loudly, "What's the hold up? Some of us need to caffeinate." 

Red Coat glances behind him at the mixture of college kids and office workers. Almost everyone on line stares back pointedly. Still, somehow, it takes another five minutes for Red Coat to order a regular, black coffee, no sugar. He doesn't even order a muffin, which makes things so much worse. Nicky spent hours making those this morning because Quynh asked him to and because he and Andy like at least one of their bakery items to be homemade. The muffins are popular with the morning crowds and the fact that Red Coat barely looks at them, cements him firmly in the list of people Nicky would take out, if he were indeed a serial killer. 

Which he's not. 

The rest of the people in the line order quickly, and before long there's a very familiar blond grinning at Nicky. His coffee name is Booker and the only reason Nicky knows this is because there's another customer that comes in with him on Mondays. But Nicky is nothing if not a professional and also the co-owner of The Old Guard Cafe; he knows better than to look for Joe. 

Even though he knows exactly where Joe will be, beautiful artist Joe, who likes to drink chai and sit on Nicky's left, by the large glass windows, because the lighting is better there. 

"Good morning, Nicky," Booker says, winking at him. "Just two today, one chai and an eggnog latte."

Nicky knows better than to mistake Booker's flirting as anything other than a means of poking fun at him for how much he looks at Joe. Because, see, Nicky is almost a hundred percent sure that Booker is Joe's boyfriend. Either that or Joe's girlfriend is Nile, the beautiful Black woman who comes in with him sometimes. He's about eighty percent sure. They could all be together, which would make things so much worse, because Nicky thinks he would make a much better addition than Booker. 

But that's petty and Nicky has a job to do, so he takes Booker's orders and sets about making the drinks. He takes extra care with Joe's chai, heats the milk more than he would usually because it's a cold November morning, and Joe tends to wear more layers than Nicky does. When he's done, he brings the drinks to Booker and sets a cranberry muffin down on the tray at the last minute. 

He makes sure to keep eye contact with Booker as he says, in his blandest voice, "Cranberry goes good with chai."

Booker laughs at that, his shoulders shaking with it. Nicky narrows his eyes and by the time Booker has himself under control, Nicky's lowered the chances of Booker and Joe being together to about fifty percent. 

"I'll be sure to tell Joe you say hi," Booker tells him, picking up the drinks and the muffin off the tray.

Nicky doesn't bother to tell him that the point of the tray is to make it easier to carry hot drinks across the cafe. It's not a long walk from the counter to the windows to Nicky's left. The only real obstacles are the lines of tables pushed against the windowed wall. The couches and reading nook are to the right of Nicky, well out of Booker's way. On that side, there's a bar top that runs the length of the windows, which makes it a favorite among the college students that float in and out throughout the week. 

They're Nicky's favorite type of customers because they always walk in with dead eyes and outrageous coffee orders. He's served everything from straight espresso over ice to milk and sugar with the barest hint of coffee to students in their early twenties. They're also the most likely to buy the muffins Nicky bakes, so they'll always be his favorite. It's why he keeps extra charging stations over by the reading nook. 

The other side of the cafe is the usual group of tables and chairs lined in neat rows. It speaks to Quynh's style, perfectly ordered but homey. That side of the cafe usually has the business people and fills up during the afternoon rush. It also happens to have Joe's favorite table, which makes it Nicky's favorite part of the entire cafe, the kitchen included. 

He turns toward Joe's table now that the morning rush is done and the little bell above the glass door, across from the counter, has stopped chiming. He's not expecting Joe to already be looking at him, which means that as their gazes lock, Nicky's face goes carefully blank, his default expression for any new or uncomfortable situation. This is a new situation because Joe never catches his eye once he's sitting at his table. But then, Nicky doesn't ever send him muffins either, so he supposes the wide smile Joe sends his way is meant to communicate gratitude. 

Nicky nods at Joe, and because most of his life has involved keeping his emotions hidden in one way or another, he turns away and pretends Joe doesn't exist. It's a leftover defense mechanism from too much Church and not enough awareness that his life doesn't have to start and end with what the priest said. Too many days where he heard that emotions make people act irrationally and that to feel what he did was unwanted and dirty. And even though he's done with his gay panic, there are scars that linger even years later. 

He exhales and sets about cleaning the espresso machine. He's just about done with the trickier knobs when he hears the kitchen door open behind him. 

"You've been staring," Quynh says.

"What?" Nicky asks, turning to look at her. "I haven't."

Quynh raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him and looks over pointedly towards the direction of Joe's table. 

"I wasn't staring," Nicky says. 

The smile playing at Quynh's mouth says that she doesn't believe him. But she's a good friend and she doesn't say anything else as she takes inventory. Nicky leans against the counter by the kitchen and watches her work, the efficient, no-nonsense way she has of going through things always inspiring awe. She would have made an excellent accountant had she wanted to keep going with it for her graduate studies. Instead, Quynh bagged herself a rich fiancée and started modeling. Though Nicky thinks it went the other way around, modeling first and the rich fiancée second. Now, she's retired from modeling, has a solid savings account, freelances when she wants, and works with Nicky part time to help him out. 

"How's Andy?" he asks, knowing that talking about her girlfriend will keep Quynh distracted until more customers come in.

It works for about five minutes, as Quynh tells Nicky about the ride she took on Andy's yacht last weekend. Nicky hadn't gone because it was the middle of November and he wasn't looking forward to freezing on a boat. Besides, he had things to watch on Netflix, and being at home wrapped in his softest blanket was just as fun and required less from him, energy-wise.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Quynh asks, finishing her list. "Andy and I are having a dinner party to celebrate the wrapping of my latest project."

"That was two months ago," Nicky says.

Quynh shrugs, twisting her ponytail into a bun at the top of her head. "You don't need to bring presents," she says. "But full disclosure, Andy's got it into her head that she needs to set you up with a friend of hers, and she asked me to buy you something to wear for the party."

"I don't need to be set up," Nicky says, his gaze going involuntarily towards Joe's table.

He's laughing at something Booker said, that infectious energy radiating off him in waves. It makes Nicky smile to watch the way Joe moves his hands as he talks, every bit of him exuding motion. He's so alive it sets Nicky's heart on edge, makes him want to run away from Joe and _to_ him at the same time. To have Joe's undivided attention, his unfiltered personality, might actually be too much for Nicky to handle. He can't imagine what it must be like to be Joe's friend, to bathe in all his charm and warmth. 

He'd like to go over there and get rid of Booker so he can find out. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Nicky's getting a vibe from Joe, which means the odds of Booker being Joe's boyfriend have started going down. It's not like Nicky thinks there's anything wrong with Booker, per se, but just as a personal opinion, he thinks he and Joe would make a better couple. Or at least, they'd look much more aesthetically pleasing. 

But this opinion, Nicky keeps buried deep down inside of himself, because if he's being really honest, Joe is heartbreakingly beautiful and Nicky owns a semi-successful cafe. Joe probably hangs out with artists and musicians, judging from the way he dresses, modern, classy pieces that are obviously in style. He matches so well with Nile, both of them just so unbelievably above Booker's worn t-shirts and faded jeans that Nicky can't help but wonder how those particular relationships work. He's almost convinced himself that Booker has to be dating Joe, as it’s the only explanation for why Booker's still around. But the more he thinks about it, the less he's convinced. Joe just doesn't seem like the type to let his boyfriend wander around looking like that.

"What are you thinking about?" Quynh asks.

"What?" Nicky asks.

"I've been talking to you for the past two minutes and you haven't heard a thing I said," she says, her eyes already drifting over to Joe's table. "So what were you thinking this time?"

Nicky breathes hard through his nose and tries to be as non-specific as he can. "Booker's wearing a t-shirt," he says.

Quynh blinks at him. "It should worry you that I know exactly who you're talking about," she says. 

"I don't talk about Booker that often," he says, feeling oddly defensive. 

"You talk about Joe," Quynh says. "Which means you talk about Booker and Nile. I've heard you talk in circles about which of them he's dating. Even though you know, and I know, that no straight man responds so calmly to a come-on by another man."

"What come-on?" Nicky asks.

"I saw you give him the muffin," Quynh says. "That's gay for marry me. I would know. My first date with Andy was in a coffee shop."

"I didn't—" Nicky starts, forgetting what he was going to say as Joe makes eye contact with him again. 

Then, Joe stands, eyes still locked with Nicky's as he makes his way toward the front counter.

"Quynh," Nicky says. 

It's a mistake because Quynh knows that this particular pitch of Nicky's voice means that Joe's done something unexpected and breathtaking. She turns, sees that Joe is almost to the counter, and grins.

"Listen to me, Nicky," she says, as she edges toward the kitchen doors. "You're hot. You're a catch. You can do this, love. Just ask him out."

Nicky's been working almost two years at The Old Guard Cafe, dedicating all of his extra time to keep his business afloat. He doesn't get out much, hasn't really been on a date since he came out to his mom and ran before things got awkward. He's in his early thirties, only a few years past the disaster that was his late-twenties. He's taking things slow, working on himself and how he fits into the world. He's not inexperienced, but he also wouldn't call himself an expert at picking up men. 

Which is why, when Joe walks up, smiling as though he's never been happier to see another person, let alone Nicky, in his life, the only thing Nicky's brain can come up with is, "you really shouldn't lean against the counter."

Joe, blessed, beautiful Joe, just laughs as though Nicky meant to be funny on purpose. 

"I like you," Joe says. "I don't know why we haven't talked properly before."

Nicky shrugs. "I own a cafe and you have your boyfriend to keep you company," he says. 

Joe makes a face and takes a step back. "Booker?" he asks, sounding mildly offended. "I'm not dating Booker."

Nicky is excellent at keeping his expression politely interested, even though he's filled with unwarranted joy on the inside. After all, just because Joe isn't dating Booker doesn't mean that he's not dating another beautiful man, or Nile. If Nile is still even in the running. 

"To be fair, I also thought Nile was your girlfriend," Nicky says, because it never hurts to be thorough. 

"Oh, well, yes," Joe says, his wide smile back in place. "I can see why you'd think that. We both have great fashion sense." 

"And you're beautiful," Nicky says, blandly.

Joe looks at him, the smile dropping from his face. "You're hard to read," he says. "But Booker thinks you like me and that's why you sent the muffin to my table."

Nicky blinks. 

"And you called me beautiful," Joe goes on. "Which makes me think he might be right. About you being interested."

Nicky nods once, a slow up and down. 

"Even though you aren't saying anything," Joe says when Nicky keeps staring at him. "So if I read this wrong, I'll back off. But if you want to have dinner with me, I can give you my number."

It takes all of Nicky's internal reserves of peace to keep his voice even as he looks into Joe's earnest brown eyes. "Number's good," he says. 

Joe smiles again, the edge of his dimple just visible over his neatly-trimmed beard. "Good," he says, pulling an ivory business card out of his pocket. "Text me."

Nicky reaches for the card, his fingers brushing against Joe's as he takes his time letting go.

"I'll text you," he says. 

"Please do," Joe says, and the look he sends Nicky's way is both earnest and suggestive.

Nicky's still thinking about it later, once Joe and Booker have left, both of them waving on their way out. He thinks about it the whole day, up until he gets home and finally puts Joe's number in his phone. He sends a quick, _Hello, it's Nicky from the coffee shop_ , right before bed and then turns his phone off. It's the only way he can deal with the growing excitement in the pit of his stomach and the overwhelming urge to look Joe up on Facebook. 

He'll wait until tomorrow. Give himself a day to process what happened. Then, if he wakes up and it all turns out to be a dream, at least he won't have invested too much energy in his inevitable disappointment. And if by some miracle, he wakes up tomorrow and Joe, beautiful, charismatic Joe has texted him back, then at least he wouldn't have stayed up all night, worrying about whether he sounded desperate in his text messages.

-

The next morning dawns wet and cloudy, but Nicky barely pays attention to the pitter-pattering of rain against his windows as he goes for his phone. When it finally blinks to life, he taps on his messages and sees that Joe's answered him. 

**Joe**  
_hello nicky from the coffee shop_ 😉  
_i'm glad you messaged me. i was starting to think you didn't like me_

Joe messages are all in lowercase letters, even though Nicky knows for a fact that all phones autocorrect the beginning of every sentence to a capital letter. Which means that Joe actively chooses to delete the capital letters when he's typing his messages, and Nicky finds himself charmed by the idea that Joe has texting aesthetics. 

_Good morning, Joe_ , he texts back and then because he can't think of what else to say, he gets up to prepare for the morning.

When he comes out of the shower, fully dressed in his favorite pair of jeans and his most comfortable t-shirt, Joe's written back.

 **Joe**  
_good morning, nicky_ 😃  
_good to hear from you. i hope you had a good night._  
_nile would like me to tell you that she appreciates you thinking she's beautiful but that she's taken._  
_you don't need to worry, i've already told her it's a tragedy._  
_anyway, what i wanted to ask was whether you were up for grabbing lunch with me, today?_  
_i have some work pending at the Freeman Museum of Art, but i can sneak in a lunch break after. say 1 if that's okay with you. just let me know if there's any place in particular you want to go._

Nicky reads and rereads all the messages Joe sent him, and then, because he can only think of one place, he sends, _Meet me at the cafe at 1_.

Joe answers almost immediately.

 **Joe**  
_it's a date_ 😉

When Nicky gets to the cafe, he's still smiling, but it's early and it’s not like there's anyone around to see him. 

-

The morning passes in a blur of tired, overworked college students and well-dressed but irritated businesspeople. There are four holdups in line and a consistent influx of nannies with wide-eyed infants, trying to hide from the rain. Outside, the clouds hang thick and gray, as the rain from this morning continues in a steady drizzle. Every time the little bell above the door chimes, a gust of air follows whoever steps in, so that by eleven, Nicky's regretting not putting a sweater on over his t-shirt.

Quynh's out for the day, called away to consult on a photoshoot, her collection of things she's good at seeming to increase every time Nicky looks away for a moment. She does a bit of everything, from keeping his books in order to guest starring in TV shows that are filmed in the area. Andy collects art and wanders the world, learning martial arts and donating money when she finds a good cause. 

Nicky bakes. 

Sometimes. 

It's a very layered and complicated friend group, but it works.

Quynh being out, however, means that when a quarter after twelve rolls around, Nicky only has Celeste, the English and Teaching double major, to keep the place under control for the lunch rush. She assures him for the fourth time that day that she can handle the cafe while Nicky sits less than three feet away and has his date with Joe.

"Please," she says. "Just go get laid."

Nicky stares at her until the doorbell rings behind him, bringing in a fresh wave of icy air. He turns and comes face to face with Nile and Booker. Looking at them standing side-by-side hits Nicky in the most fragile part of his ego. He knows Joe said he isn't dating Nile or Booker, but today, they're both dressed impeccably, standing in front of him like two tall and extremely gorgeous hipsters. Nile's pulled her braids into a ponytail that cascades down her back and over the shoulders of her long tan peacoat. Booker actually looks good for a change, his blond hair slicked back away from his face, with just the faintest trace of a five-o'clock shadow on his cheeks. He's wearing a short blue peacoat that's just as neat as Nile's, and his jeans look expensive. It's alarmingly demoralizing when Nicky looks down at his own well-worn pair and green t-shirt. 

"Good morning, Nicky," Booker says with his usual smirk. 

Nile smiles softly and holds her hand out towards Nicky. "I'm Nile," she says. "Nice to officially meet you."

Her voice is soft, a gentle lull that puts Nicky at ease. 

"I'm Nicky," he says. 

Behind him, Celeste coughs delicately. Nicky looks away from Nile's assessing eyes to the line starting to form behind her and Booker. 

"Uh," he says. "If we're going to talk, we should do it over to the side. Unless you want to order?" 

"Two coffees," Booker says. 

"Decaf," Nile adds lightly. 

Nicky watches Booker shake his head, but he catches sight of the smile on Booker's face as the three of them head for Joe's usual table. He looks at Nile and back to Booker, and thinks maybe he's misread the situation. But Nile catches him staring and there must be something about the expression on his face that gives him away because she laughs. 

"You weren't lying," she says to Booker as they make it to the table. 

She motions for Nicky to sit as she and Booker take their jackets off. Nile's wearing a vibrant orange blouse over black dress pants. And by the time Nicky takes in Booker's jeans and button down, clearly tailored, he's given up trying to work out what they do. 

"So," Nicky asks, as Celeste drops by with the coffees. "Are you two dating?"

Nicky's sure Celeste's cough is hiding a laugh but she says nothing as she heads back to the front counter. When Nicky turns back to Nile and Booker, they're both watching him with pitying expressions, though Nile manages to look mostly sympathetic. 

"He asked Joe if we were dating," Booker says. 

Nile turns to Booker, her mouth hanging open slightly. "You didn't tell me that yesterday."

Booker shrugs. "You didn't tell me you and Jordan were dating until you moved in together."

Nile says nothing for a moment as she raises an eyebrow at Booker. When she turns to Nicky, she's biting back a smile. 

"So," she says.

"Wait," Booker interrupts, turning so that he's sprawled out sideways on his chair, his undivided attention on Nicky. "Okay, go."

Nicky is under the distinct impression that he's about to get a talk. But he's already sitting and Joe's due to drop by in less than half an hour. The day is cold, the rain speeding up as the skies darken. He could be working but instead, he's sitting in his own cafe waiting for a beautiful man to have lunch with him. There are worse situations to be in, Nicky supposes. 

"You don't have to be scared," Nile says.

"I'm not," Nicky says. 

"You should be," Booker tells him, holding his hands up in surrender at the look from Nile. "That's the last one. I promise."

Nile shakes her head but the general air seems to be friendly between them, that quiet fondness that comes from knowing someone well. It reminds Nicky of Quynh and her tendency to pat his head and gives him sorrowful looks whenever they go shopping. That same air of watching a train wreck in progress exists between Nile and Booker. 

"Okay," Nile says, looking away from Booker, her brown eyes pinning Nicky in place. "My name is actually Nile. I'm the curator of North African History at the Freeman Museum of Art."

Which finally explains the clothes and Nile's general air of competence.

"Joe's a good friend who also happens to work with me," she continues. "He's the museum's favorite conservator. He specializes in North African Arabic art. The Crusades specifically. His doctoral dissertation was on the history of homoeroticism and sexuality in the First Crusade as expressed through art."

She pauses to look expectantly at Nicky. 

"Okay," he says, not sure what they're expecting from him. 

Booker outright laughs. "Mate," he says. "What she's trying to tell you is that Joe's very very gay."

Nile frowns. "Well...I mean, yes," she says. "But I wasn't going to say it like that."

"Okay," Nicky says again, referring to Nile. "So you work with Joe."

He turns to Booker out of habit, not knowing how to phrase his question. 

Booker grins. "I'm rich," he says. "That's the only reason they keep me around."

"Booker," Nile starts, frowning at him, "is our most generous donor."

Booker rights himself and leans across the table towards Nicky. "I have money and depression," he says, conspiratorially. "And I don't know what to do with myself most of the time, so Nile and Joe take pity on me."

Nile makes a noise of disagreement and says something so low, Nicky misses it. He takes a good look at Booker instead and sees the dark circles under his eyes, the tell-tale marks of sadness in the down-turned corners of his mouth, as though frowning has become second nature. Nicky thinks back to the number of times Booker's walked in with obviously worn clothing, comforting clothes, and thinks he has, perhaps, judged Booker wrongly. 

"Anyway," Booker says, loudly, sparing a moment to pat Nile's hand. "What we wanted to say was that we're watching you. Be good to Joe."

"I will," Nicky says, automatically. 

There's never been a second of doubt in his mind that if Joe ever gave him the chance, Nicky would do everything in his power to make him the happiest man alive. It's a little fast, but sometimes things feel right, and once Nicky's made the first jump, he doesn't back down from the things he wants. He will, in the most polite and respectful way he can, pursue Joe with the same focused intensity he dedicates to keeping his cafe running. 

He doesn't need the shovel talk is the thing, but as he's thinking of the right away to tell Nile and Booker that, the bell chimes and Joe walks in from the rain. He's wearing a gray peacoat, open at the front, over a black sweater, his blue henley and dark jeans visible through the layers. Nicky's sure Joe has on at least one other sweater underneath his jacket and that he's carrying gloves tucked somewhere in his coat. The blue scarf around his neck hangs on either side of his neck, one end catching on Joe's umbrella as he closes it. 

Joe looks to the counter, a slight frown on his forehead as he sees Celeste. He turns, his eyes catching Nicky's almost immediately across the room. He waves, his grin wide and bright, making Nicky want to smile in response. Nicky raises a hand in greeting, feels the corner of his mouth pulling up into a small smile, hears Booker’s low wolf-whistle, and ignores it in favor of watching Joe cross the room. 

"Hello, Nicky," he says.

"Hello, Joe," Nicky answers, taking his time to look into Joe's eyes, to take in the friendly open expression on his face.

"You look lovely," Joe says. "I like your shirt. It brings out the color of your eyes."

It's a little overwhelming, especially because Nicky's taken Joe's order so many times in the last few months and it's never been like this. He never gets Joe's undivided attention, that look in his eyes that makes Nicky feel like he's the only person in the cafe. It's impossible to keep it together in the face of so much earnest and open want.

"Please sit," Nicky says, already breathless. 

He looks away from Joe and to the seat across from him and is surprised to see Nile sitting there, her eyebrow raised as she smirks at him. Booker's still there too, but he's already standing, taking his coat off the back of his chair. He shrugs on his jacket and grabs Nile's off her chair as she takes her time. 

"Joe," she says, her eyes still on Nicky. "Don't forget we have a meeting at two thirty."

"Cancel the meeting," Booker says, handing Nile her coat. "Fifty says we're not seeing Joe for the rest of the day."

"Shut up," Joe says. "I'll be there."

Nicky looks up at him, catches Joe's eyes, the contemplating look there. 

"Okay," Joe says, turning to Nile. "Maybe I'll be fifteen minutes late."

"Two thirty, Joe," Nile says. 

Joe smiles winningly at her. "Two thirty, boss," he says. "I promise."

Nile shakes her head, and as she and Booker head towards the door, Nicky hears Booker call out, "a hundred and lunch for the rest of the week that we don't see Joe before three. You might as well call Dee and tell her to push back the meeting."

He doesn't hear what Nile says in response because Joe chooses that moment to take his jacket off and there are more important things to do than figure out the intricacies of Booker and Nile's bets. Things like taking in Joe's carefully styled curls and the way his shirt lies across his shoulders. He doesn't look like he's heading to a meeting after lunch. 

"So," Nicky says, once Joe's sitting across from him. "Nile said you work at the museum with her?"

"Yes," he says. "I also do freelance work. Graphic design mostly. But sometimes someone wants a painting. I'd ask what you do, but obviously you run a lovely cafe."

"I run a cafe," Nicky agrees.

He can almost feel Celeste wincing by the cash register and the fact that Quynh would be doing the exact same thing, if she were here, makes Nicky want to laugh. He is obviously out of practice and Joe is so hilariously out of Nicky's league that he doesn't know how he's meant to pull it together. But then, Booker turned out to be rich, so Nicky supposes that stranger things have happened. 

"Your friends are nice," he tries. 

"Nile is," Joe says. "Booker is Booker."

The conversation stalls there as Nicky tries to work out if he should just run while he still can. But then Joe asks him if he'd like to go for a walk to the Turkish place down the street and Nicky says yes before he really thinks it through. He'd say yes to anything that will help break the awful tension that's settled between them. He's so distracted, trying to find the right things to say, that he and Joe are already halfway down the block when he remembers that he didn't tell Celeste he was leaving. So he has to run back, leaving Joe holding his umbrella in the middle of the street.

"Oh my god," Celeste says, as soon as she sees him come through the door. "How did you ruin it already?"

"What? No, I came to make sure you'll be okay on your own."

Celeste blinks at him, her mouth hanging open. "Amazing," she says, shaking her head. "How did you land a date with a man like that?"

"I don't know," Nicky says, proud that he sounds so calm. 

"Get out," Celeste says, when Nicky doesn't move. "Go on your date. I'll handle the cafe."

So Nicky goes, finds Joe waiting for him in the same place he left him. He smiles when he sees Nicky coming up the street, offering his umbrella because Nicky left his in the cafe. They have to walk close together, Nicky overly aware of how his puffer jacket leaves water on Joe's expensive peacoat. 

Their walk is short so there's no time for much conversation as their waiter takes them to their table, the intimate atmosphere of the restaurant highlighted by the dim orange lights around the room. The clouds outside add to the dark decor and make it seem as though Nicky and Joe are closer than they actually are, the distance cut shorter as Joe leans forward to point out his favorite dishes on the menu. 

Once they've ordered, Joe leans back and Nicky takes a good long look at him, taking in the fact that they're in a restaurant, sitting together, Nicky painfully under-dressed even though he and Joe aren't wearing drastically different articles of clothing. He thinks it's the obvious wear on his clothes, and he spares a thought for Booker and his usual choice of clothing. He wants to say that he can do better, look better, because Joe deserves some effort. Or at the very least, someone who isn't wearing a five-year-old shirt. But Joe saw him at the cafe and asked him for lunch anyway, and that thought comforts Nicky. 

He inhales and as they wait for their food, they start at the easiest and most obvious point of similarity between them—the fact that they're both gay men raised in conservative cultures. Nicky speeds through the story of being raised in a Catholic home and doesn't linger as he tells Joe about coming out to his mother and leaving home. 

Joe makes an unnervingly large amount of eye contact so it's easy for Nicky to see the sympathy there. It's not unpleasant, especially once Joe tells him of experiencing something similar with his own religion, the precarious tightrope he sometimes walks to reconcile what he knows of his religion and what others tell him. Nicky knows the dance well, the way a person can twist themselves into knots trying to keep the pieces of something that's made them feel safe, while recovering from the places where they've been shunned. It's painful, a grotesque jumbling of emotions that left Nicky feeling lost for so long, he thought he'd never find a way out. 

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Joe says, reaching over the table to put his hand over Nicky's.

Nicky shakes his head. "It's all right," he says. "It's over."

"It still wasn't fair," Joe says, waiting for Nicky to meet his eyes. "It shouldn't have happened that way." 

"Thanks," Nicky says.

They talk about other things then, Joe mentioning how he grew up in Tunisia and came over on a scholarship. They talk about their mutual obsession with religious history, that sort of expected desire to redefine what is a core aspect of their personality. Nicky was raised Catholic and Joe is Muslim, and they've done their best to keep being those things without letting people's opinions get in the way. It's easy to go from there to Joe's job, to the art he gets to be around everyday, to the books he's read, his love of poetry. Nicky read Rumi for Humanities in college and when he mentions it to Joe, he lights up.

"I love Rumi," he says, the same way he's said it about his job, his friends, his family. 

Nicky can't help himself, he laughs, just absolutely enchanted by Joe's enthusiasm. When he stops, Joe's watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. 

"There you go," he says, softly. "Just like that."

"Oh," Nicky says, inhaling shakily as Joe just keeps looking at him. "Okay."

-

The thing is that Nicky is a disaster on a good day, even if he's outwardly the pinnacle of calm. He thrives when other people lose their shit, their panic feeding into his inner turmoil and cancelling out whatever nerves might exist within him. If Quynh's worried about a deadline, Nicky brings her tea and makes sure her desk is clear as she wanders around her and Andy's loft apartment. If Celeste just broke up with her girlfriend and can't keep it together at work, Nicky sends her home with fresh pastries. He's good at working under pressure. What he's not good at is handling things properly when he's the one losing it.

See, the thing is, exactly eighteen hours ago, Joe looked at him over his lamb tagine and told him he liked Nicky's laugh. Then they had coffee and Joe kept brushing his foot against Nicky's until they had to go. They finished lunch half an hour over Joe's time limit and he still walked Nicky back to the cafe. 

"I had fun," Joe said.

Nicky's sure that Joe specifically mentioned having fun. He even stood at the front of the cafe for a moment and Nicky was so sure Joe meant to go for a kiss. But he just stuck his hands in his pockets, gave Nicky an intense once over, and walked away. 

"I'll text you," he said, waving as he went.

Nicky is one hundred percent sure Joe said he would text him. 

"Well to be fair," Quynh says, when Nicky meets up with her at the mall and finishes telling her about his date with Joe. "You could have texted him too."

Nicky bites his lip as he watches Quynh pull out button downs from the rack. She's holding an alarming number of brightly colored shirts. But he trusts her, so he follows her around the store going over his date with Joe in his head. He feels old all of a sudden, thinking about what he might have done wrong, dissecting the various reasons for why Joe hasn't texted him. It's an interesting dissonance, the wave of pure joy every time he thinks of Joe looking at him over their lunch and the accompanying nerves that follow.

"Do you think I'm hard to read?" Nicky asks, remembering what Joe said to him at the cafe.

"Yes," Quynh says without looking up. 

"But Joe knows I like him."

Quynh stops rifling through the stack of jeans in front of her. She looks up, pursing her lips as she turns to Nicky.

"Did you tell him you liked him?"

"No," Nicky says. "But—"

"But you should have texted him," Quynh says. "Especially because it sounds like he spent all of lunch telling you you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in the enitre world."

"He didn't," Nicky says.

Quynh sighs and reaches out to tug at Nicky's collar. "Listen, love, you're my favorite, you know that, but you don't emote," she says. "It took me two years to realize we were friends. Andy still thinks you hate her. And she's your business partner."

Nicky wishes he could argue with Quynh, but he remembers very well the painful conversation in college when she sat across from him, arms crossed, her long black hair tied into a high ponytail, as she asked him if they were friends. She ended it by telling him that he needed to be clearer about things because she had so much catching up to do, and then proceeded to invite him over to her dorm to study together. They've been good friends since then, a good four months after Nicky thought they started their friendship.

"Shit," he says, thinking about all the openings Joe gave him that he didn't take. "I have to text him."

"Yes, good job figuring that out twenty-four hours after your date," Quynh says, putting the clothes she's carrying into Nicky's arms. "Now go try these on."

Nicky goes because it's better not to argue when Quynh's decided to buy him clothes. That doesn't mean that he wastes time in pulling out his phone once he locks the dressing room door behind him. He opens up to Joe's text, sees the little bubbles that tell him Joe's in the middle of typing out a message. Nicky waits for something to come through and feels his heart sink when he gets Joe's message.

 **Joe**  
_Hello, Nicky. I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I'm aware that I can come on too strong sometimes and it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I hope we can still be friends, though I'm hoping you're willing to give me a second chance. I promise I can show you a good time._

Nicky never thought he'd be so hurt by capital letters. He reads the message twice, knows that Joe can tell he's read it and that the longer he waits, the worse the situation becomes. He reads the text one more time, lingering over the words "can come on too strong." He thinks about how he was ready to do everything he could to keep Joe with him, for as long as possible, the minute Joe walked through the door on their first date. 

Nicky's phone lights up again with a text notification as he's thinking about how to fix the mess he's made. 

**Joe**  
_i'm sorry_ 😔  
_but i do like you and i did mean it, and i still think booker was right (don't tell him) and you might be interested too_  
_nile says that you were probably just nervous._  
_i hope you were nervous and not just not interested_  
_i really really hope you're interested._  
_i'll be very sad if i missed my chance to kiss you_  
_you should answer me. i know you're reading my messages. put a man out of his misery, nicolas_ 😔 _nicholas?? nikandros? nico? niccolo???_  
_i'm yusuf. joe for short._

Nicky bites back a smile at how quickly Joe's gone back to lower cases and rereads the messages. He doesn't know what to say, so he chooses the easiest thing to respond to and writes back, _My name is Nicolo_.

The little bubbles at the bottom of the text chat pop up as Joe types. 

**Joe**  
_put a man out of his misery, nicolo_ 😢

Nicky stares at his phone, remembers how Joe looked as he walked Nicky to the cafe, the way Joe watched him laugh, the low timbre that resonated in Nicky's chest as he said, "just like that."

 _I am interested_ , he sends, watching for the gray "read" at the corner of his blue box of text.

 **Joe**  
❤️❤️❤️!  
_in the interest of full disclosure, i want you to know that i'm sending this to nile and booker right now_  
_a friend of mine is having a party next week, you should come with me. she wants to set me up with someone she knows and i would much rather date you instead._  
_since you're interested and all_ 😉  
_the party is saturday at 7. will you come with me? i promise to drive you home and kiss you goodnight_

"Okay," Nicky says to the empty dressing room. 

He bites his lip as he rereads Joe's messages and can't come up with anything even close to sexy to write back. He settles for, "okay," and adds a smiling emoji as an afterthought. Joe's response is a single dancing emoji so Nicky knows they're on the same page. 

When no more messages come through, he puts his phone away and tries on the clothes Quynh gave him. He likes everything except for the knitted turtleneck sweater, which means Quynh's going to spend the rest of their trip trying to get him to buy it. He puts it back on the pile he takes to Quynh anyway, oddly inclined to let her convince him. He's in a good mood and when he comes out of the dressing room, Quynh takes one look at his face and rolls her eyes. 

"You owe me," she says. "That means I'm buying you whatever I want and you can't say no."

Nicky nods, too happy to argue. "Okay," he says. "Whatever you want." 

-

The problem is he forgets that Andy's party is on Saturday and by the time he remembers, it's Friday. He texts both Andy and Quynh to apologize. Andy answers quickly, a simple, "I know where you live, Nicky." 

Quynh is much more understanding because she's his best friend and the only reason Nicky's managing to keep his life together. She sends him lots of kissing emojis and makes him promise to call her after his second date. That out of the way, Nicky texts Joe.

**Nicky**  
_Hello. I forgot that I promised my friend I'd go to her party this Saturday._

**Joe**  
_nicky, no._  
_please tell me you're not cancelling on me._  
_nicolo, i made plans. we were going to drink and spend the night judging booker for whatever mess he makes. i'm sure he won't let me down._  
_the guy i was being set up with can't make it, so it was just going to be me and you_  
_nicky, we were going to make out in front of your apartment until your neighbors got mad at us. i was going to pretend to be polite and not ask you if i could come upstairs._  
_plans, nicky. plans_

**Nicky**  
_I'm going._  
_And you can._

**Joe**  
_oh, good!_  
_can what?_

**Nicky**  
_come_  
_upstairs, i mean_

 **Joe**  
_nicky, i mean this with all my heart._  
_i can't wait._

-

Joe makes it to Nicky's early on Saturday. They're supposed to be at Joe's friend's place by seven but he's there at six. Nicky can see his black four-seater in front of the steps outside of the apartment building. When he gets downstairs, Joe's leaning against his car, wearing black jeans and a white button down under a dark blue vest. He's wearing his gray peacoat, looking for all the world like he stepped out of a magazine catalogue. His hair looks great. His beard looks great. His face is great. 

"Hello, Nicolo," he says, smiling wide as Nicky opens the front door. 

In Nicky's defense, he's spent the last twenty-four hours imagining making out with Joe against the plexiglass door at the entrance of his apartment building. He's pictured it a hundred different ways, where Joe would put his hands, how he'd push Nicky against the buzzers, how they'd dig into Nicky's back. At that point, he always imagined his coat would be halfway off. Joe's too, because Nicky wants to get his hands on every part of him.

The point is, he's pretty revved up when he sees Joe standing against his car, watching Nicky as he walks over to him. Nicky goes, then keeps going, until he's pressing Joe into the car door. 

"I'm going to kiss you," Nicky says, giving Joe enough room to step away.

When Joe stays still, Nicky kisses him, gets his hands behind Joe's head and pulls him close. Joe's nose is cold against Nicky's cheek, his hands coming around Nicky's back to pull him tight. They kiss against Joe's car, his beard rubbing against Nicky's cheeks, but Nicky likes it, likes the way Joe's hands are moving to unzip Nicky's puffer jacket. They break apart for a moment as Joe gets his hands inside Nicky's jacket and then Nicky moves forward, gets his mouth on the side of Joe's neck, hears him say, "That's right. I got you."

By the time they break apart, Nicky's face feels raw from the scrape of Joe's beard. Joe's grinning at him, one of his hands holding Nicky's side. 

"Hello," he says. "Nice to see you too."

"We should stay," Nicky says, unwilling to back down now that Joe's in front of him again.

He doesn't need to go to a party when he can have Joe on his couch upstairs. They could watch something, order food, stay inside. But Joe doesn't say anything for a moment and Nicky's starting to think he's overstepped. 

"We don't have to," he says. "I know it's a lot and we just met."

Joe's hand tightens around Nicky, his eyes warm with his suppressed smile. "I like this intense side of you," he says. 

"Not many people do," Nicky says, doesn't offer more. 

"I do," Joe says. "I promise I can take it."

"You're not ready for me at my most intense," Nicky says, feeling the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, really?" Joe asks, raising an eyebrow, even as he leans in closer to Nicky.

"Really," Nicky says.

Their noses brush and Joe's eyes drop half-closed as he shifts. "Bring it, Nicky," he says, closing the distance between them. "I'm ready."

And, _oh_ , Nicky thinks, Joe is not ready. 

But he supposes, they can figure it out together. 

-

They don't go to the party and the next morning, Joe makes breakfast in Nicky's kitchen, aromatic French toast and eggs. They drink coffee in front of the TV, ignoring the barrage of texts from their friends until someone knocks at Nicky's door at half-past twelve. 

When he opens the door, Andy and Quynh are there, and that's how Nicky and Joe find out that Andy knows both of them. There's a lot of excited chatter, a new chat group, and about ten different messages between Nile and Quynh as they ignore the pictures Joe keeps sending of Nicky on the couch. Booker sends a single thumbs up and by the time Nicky readjusts to the new chaos that's his merging friend group, it's late enough to ask Joe to stay for dinner. 

From there, it's only a matter of eating slowly and finishing dinner late, so that he can ask Joe to stay the night. The fact that Joe says yes so easily warms Nicky enough that he's inclined to think that things might work out. It's so easy being with Joe, easy to talk to him, to get carried away by his excited energy. 

He's beautiful, every bit of him, and as they settle down into bed that night, Nicky thinks that he could get used to waking up to Joe every morning.


End file.
